


Welcome to Port Altea

by starvaria



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Cuban Lance, Drug Use, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Magical Forests, Psychic Abilities, Slow Burn, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-08-07 18:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starvaria/pseuds/starvaria
Summary: Throughout his entire life, Lance Acosta had been told that he was gifted with an incredibly rare, magical capability. However, his capability was that he could make other people’s powers stronger by being near them, so throughout his entire life he often called bullshit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A revised version I'm now putting back up!
> 
> Originally this was going to start off as a (major slow burn) Lance / Lotor 'The Raven Cycle' au, but it's somehow become it's own thing. I've also wanted an excuse to write about Lance's family and the friendship between him the other paladins in a modern fantasy setting. This chapter is mainly centered toward Lance and his family, though I plan on having the other characters appear in chapter two, which I'll hopefully have up soon as well. 
> 
> Lance's Siblings - Oldest to Youngest: Luis, Veronica, Marco, Rachel, Lance.  
> Rachel and Lance are twins.  
> Luis is married to Lisa. Nadia and Sylvio are their kids / Lance's niece and nephew.
> 
> As of right now the only ships I have planned are Lance / Lotor, though I may add more depending on where the story decides to take me. I really hope you enjoy this fic as much as I've enjoyed writing it regardless!

Throughout his entire life, Lance Acosta had been told that he was gifted with an incredibly rare, magical capability.

However, his capability was that he could make other people’s powers stronger by being near them, so throughout his entire life he often called bullshit.

Anybody who lived in Port Altea long enough knew about the family of psychics that currently resided at 315 New Castle Way and their strange, strange ways. Lance had never really considered his family in particular to be odd, at least not at first. To him, they were just another typical Cuban family that had somehow ended up on the small town island in Maine after moving from New York two years prior, the only difference being that his mom had the number for a psychic phone hotline connected to the landline and people occasionally showed up in the evenings for tarot readings.

Maybe Lance had just grown up being surrounded by strangeness enough that he considered it his normal?

Even before they moved, Lance had faced his fair share of playground bullies when he was younger. Commonly, they were the types that called his family ‘freaks’ or ‘weirdos’ with the words dripping so venomously off of their tongues that Lance would lock himself in the school bathroom in the mornings to avoid them, allowing his negative thoughts to simmer and dwindle away. Being so young at the time, he couldn’t fully understand what it was that he had supposedly done to be on the receiving end of their cruelty.

Over time he had learned to build up an indifference toward their comments. The only thing he could do was either try to keep a positive attitude or confront them when it annoyed him enough, the latter usually being his first choice and rarely working in his favor. Gradually, Lance realized that there were more important things to worry about than some crude remark made by a twelve year old. He had only wished that their words hadn’t caused him to waste so much of his childhood secretly wishing that his family was normal.

Lance’s mom always went on and on about how he was destined to be part of something amazing, but like many things she predicted, she couldn’t give details or specifics. _Pay attention to the number three_ or _the color blue will have a large impact on you_ were common for him, though he had heard them so often it hardly wavered a reaction anymore.

Maybe it just took a lot for magic to actually surprise him nowadays.

Being surrounded by his siblings and seeing their enthusiasm every time a prediction came true and knowing that it was something that he would never experience was enough to crush his excitement. A big part of his bitterness _did_ come from his own lack of psychic powers, he would openly admit that to anybody who was willing to listen. Another part was seeing the look on his dad’s face every time Lance’s abilities were brought up in conversation, like he had come so close to having somebody else in the family who was like him but he had ended up with a kid that was more complicated than it was worth. It was all in Lance’s head, he knew. His dad loved them all more than anybody could ever imagine, but it was a thought that always lingered.

Lance had finally determined that he had a resentment toward magic because of all of this. Often it felt like he was a puzzle piece, missing from some bigger picture, only his family wasn’t the puzzle he was meant to complete.

Maybe he was secretly hoping that something would come along soon enough and change his mind.

-

Mornings in the Acosta household were chaotic.

Today, more so than usual.

“I still don’t understand how the power went out. The storm last night wasn’t even that bad!” Mrs. Acosta insisted.

She stood at the stove, her focus returning to the potato omelette she was currently preparing for Lisa, Luis’s wife. At the sink behind him, Luis himself continued to wash the plates they had already eaten out of, appointing himself to dish duty that day. Various other family members appeared in and out of the kitchen every few minutes, the minor set-back causing a frenzy in fear of being late. They were all pretty thankful that Rachel had set the alarm on her phone, always being the first up to shower in an attempt to avoid arguments with Veronica and her brothers.

Lance sat with his laptop at the kitchen counter, gingerly sipping apple juice while googling whatever location it was that Pidge had wanted him to look up. In most cases, Lance was usually a main contributor to the morning chaos, whether intentional or not, but the information on the old railway station and the train tunnels along the island’s upper coast had left him...intrigued.

Truthfully, whenever Pidge wanted to explore abandoned places for the sake of making _actual_ _exploration videos_ for her Youtube channel instead of her or her brother trying to summon a ghost for views was usually a sigh of relief.

“Stranger things have happened during storms, I’m sure.” Lisa added, a matter-of-factly tone to her voice.

She and Lance met eyes and a knowing look passed between them. It wasn’t uncommon for Lance’s mom to become easily annoyed with any minor inconvenience. Lance had lost count of how many times his dad said that he had gotten that from her.

Mrs. Acosta, not fond of her daughter-in-law’s sarcasm but being use to it by now, carefully flipped the omelette onto a plate before heading toward them.

“Well, on _this island_ I would assume that’s a given, but still...”

She sat the plate down with a glass click.

“Oh?” Lisa inquired. “So then you _do_ admit there are places where strange things happen during - “

“Lisa!” Mrs. Acosta warned.

She was not in the mood. Not today.

Smirking but dropping the matter, Lisa sat her tea cup down and focused on her breakfast. Lance, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go.

“I mean...she’s not wrong.” He said.

Port Altea gave off a weird energy in ways that Lance couldn’t quite explain, especially when it stormed, which was usually a good eighty percent of the time. Nobody needed magic to come to that conclusion.

“She’s our mom. She’s never wrong.” Luis added over his shoulder. “ _Or so she wants to believe_.”

“What was that, Luis?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s what I thought.”

“No.” Lance insisted. “I mean about weird things happening during storms. I remember one time Pidge sent me the link to some weird article about a city where frogs rained from the sky. And then something about Star Jelly. _Whatever that is_ …”

“Is Pidge the tiny one with the glasses?” Lisa asked, suddenly curious.

Lisa, Luis, Nadia, and Sylvio had only moved in with them a few months prior. She was still getting use to which of Lance’s friends were which.

“The one always trying to get me possessed by a demon?” Lance questioned, leaning back in his chair. “Yep, that’s her.”

“A demon isn’t going to willingly possess you, dear. Not unless you do something to instigate it.”

“That’s a relief.” He let his head fall back.

Lisa’s powers were the strongest in the family, despite her not being blood-related to them. In addition, she was also a medium. Everybody could trust her word on something. At one point she had been a fortune teller in Vegas, her predictions being so accurate that she often did her own shows at hotels and casinos, which is how she and Luis met in what Luis could only described as ‘one heck of a bachelor’s party’ after he flew to Nevada to be the best man for his friend’s wedding. The two of them had stumbled into each other by accident, both getting the same prediction that day: _You will cross paths with an important stranger._ Luis and Lisa took it as them being soul mates, maybe even love at first sight. It had been history ever since then with Nadia and Sylvio coming along not long after.

“And even if it did, the demon had better have you home by midnight on the weekends or that demon is going to get grounded. It’ll get mad sooner or later and leave.”

Lance’s head dipped back up at his mom’s words, his eyebrow raised and his face unamused, knowing that she was entirely serious. The Acosta’s might be able to predict the future and occasionally worked with spirit activity (which Lance wasn’t personally fond of) but dealings with demons was something they were incredibly against, for obvious reasons. Disturbing spirits for fun was something they also looked down on, which is why Lance had never mentioned how deep Pidge’s other interest actually went, other then mentioning that she liked folklore and urban exploration. None of them were even aware of the Youtube channel, besides him showing it to Rachel once and she _knew_ how to keep a secret. They had younger sibling solidarity.

“Alright, enough talk about demons and storms now. You both need to lighten up a little.” Lisa insisted, waving one of her hands as if to shoo the conversation away. She urged her cup toward Lance. “Here, it’s Chamomile. Very calming.”

Lance looked toward the cup with a slight weariness, suddenly remembering all of the gross drinks she had offered him under the guise of being healthy.

“Yeah...no offense Lisa, but your weird teas always taste like weeds.”

“I’d love to be there when he finds out where Chamomile actually comes from.” Rachel interrupted.

She appeared behind Lance, her fingers gently messing up his hair in her typical greeting before her backpack and books found a spot beside his laptop. Opening the fridge, she scanned for the water she had been infusing overnight with strawberries and peach slices. Like always, she had her blue shawl with the owl design draped around her shoulders. She was also wearing her favorite white dress. Lance couldn’t help but wonder what the special occasion was but just assumed that if it was important enough she would tell him later.

“Hey, Rachel.” His head dipped back in the chair once more. “What’s star jelly? You know, since you’re apparently the family astronomer and everything.”

Rachel’s interest in space wasn’t a secret to anybody.

“Umm...good question.” Her voice trailed off, meaning that she probably knew about as much as Lance did.

Bottle in hand, she paused long enough to pull up the chair beside him. Lance tilted forward in his own seat so all four of the legs now rested on the floor. “I think it’s some sort of goo that appears after meteor showers. I don’t know, really. Usually cryptic phenomenon is your friend Pidge’s sort of thing.”

“She was the one who asked me about it.” Lance felt the need to defend.

“So that _is_ who she _is_!” Lisa finally put two and two together. “The one always talking about haunted houses and aliens? And her brother was the one you had the crush on? Right?”

At the mere suggestion of having a crush on Matt, Lance’s unamused face returned once more.

“Uhh no, actually. That was Shiro.”

It took a moment, it really did, but Lance finally made the realization. Eyes suddenly widening, he let out some combination of a whimper and a groan, both his arms and his head finding their way to the table.

Did he really just have to _admit that_ to them.

“Ah! Shiro.” Lisa tasted his name on her tongue. “Now, which one is he?”

“The one that graduated before we moved in and went off to some college in California.” Luis explained from the sink.

“No, he’s back.” Lance, head still down, turned slightly to gaze toward them. “He transferred into Garrison University this spring. I know because he and Matt were best friends in high school and they share a dorm now, Matt just goes home on the weekends and he told Pidge about it.”

“Star quarterback.” Mrs. Acosta continued, stirring her coffee while leaning against the counter. “Honor Roll. Gorgeous. Wonderful husband material.”

With another whine at her words, Lance buried his face back into the sleeves of his jacket, managing to get a snicker out of Rachel and Luis that they both failed miserably to hide.

“Would the calm-down tea be of any use now?” Lisa asked, sympathetic.

Lance’s hand reached forward, slowly tugging the cup toward him before sitting up to take a sip. In all fairness, it really wasn’t as bad as some of the other stuff she had forced him to drink before, especially since there was enough sugar in it this time. He finished off the small portion that remained in the cup and had planned on passing it to Luis before Lisa spoke once more.

“Now, what do you see in the leaves? Anything?”

“Oh!”

In curiosity, Rachel leaned over as Lance squinted, both trying to determine the shapes in the bottom. Lisa always liked to incorporate tiny bits of divination with the two of them whenever she could, mostly because they were the most eager to learn.

“It kind of looks like a - “

“It’s a lion!” Rachel exclaimed, though her excitement quickly dropped once she realized she had stolen her brother’s thunder. “Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it." Lance's voice sounded defeated. "Wait...how do you see a lion?”

“You see the blotchy area at the top?” She pointed. “That could be a mane. What...did you think it looked like?”

“A rocketship.”

“It’s a lion.” Lisa finalized, scanning the cup herself after sliding it back from Lance. “Commonly they’re a symbol of great fortune and probably one of the luckiest things to see in magic, indicating high hopes and often representing distinguished people, honour, fame, the works.” Again, her hand swirled with a flourish in the air.

“That pretty much sums up Lionsdale students perfectly.” Rachel couldn’t help but add. Lance was less than convinced.

“Their parents maybe.” He scoffed. “The ones who know who know they are, at least.”

“Lance, really?” Rachel scolded.

Maybe his words did seem a little harsh, but Lance had grown to detest Lionsdale students more than anything. Most were the children of movie stars or powerful government officials and politicians and had never felt remorse for anything in their lives. Why apologize when they could just run to mommy or daddy to bail them out, which they were more than happy to do if it meant having somebody else deal with their kids so they could keep them out of their way longer. And _boy_ , did Lionsdale students _really_ base their entire identities around getting their parents’ attention.

If it was up to Lance, he would gladly avoid them by any means necessary. It was a big island. The port wasn’t the only place to wander, though it _was_ where most of the action happened since it was the most populated area. The only problem was that Sal’s diner, where he and Hunk worked, was right across the street from the school’s main building and was pretty much the only non-fast food joint for the next block. It was claimed Lionsdale territory, and there was nothing anybody could do about it.

“But am I lying?” Lance retaliated.

Rachel didn’t say anything and opted for rolling her eyes, more so at the grouchiness the rest of her family was apparently feeling because of the power outage instead of Lance’s words. She hated to admit that she secretly agreed with him.

Rachel always tried her hardest not to judge others based on their backgrounds, people did that to her and her family enough as it was, especially after they found out about the whole ‘psychic powers’ thing. At the same time, she had never had a comfortable encounter with a Lionsdale student. Some of the guys that attended the school were creepers that assumed anybody’s attention could be bought and it was almost as if most of the girls were a single clique plucked straight from a bad teen movie. All of the drama was too much for a passive peacekeeper like her to handle and she often wondered if it made her seem just as snooty as them to think of herself as somehow better.

Lance just found them obnoxious and really didn’t care if people didn’t like how vocal he was about it.

Noticing his sister’s gaze fall over his laptop and figuring that she probably wanted to change the subject, Lance turned the screen toward her.

“Altea Coastline Atlantic Railway.” He explained, gathering Lisa’s now empty plate and both her and his mom’s cups to slide them into the soapy water beside Luis. “And no, it doesn’t look like that anymore.”

Mrs. Acosta put her hand on Lisa’s shoulder, signaling that the two of them should probably start heading out soon. They both had a few errands to attend to that day, including a grocery run and shopping for some sort of project supplies Nadia and Sylvio needed for school, and the longer they sat around the longer it would take for them to get back.

“You two remember to take your jackets and an umbrella today.” Mrs. Acosta spoke, gathering her purse. “It’s going to rain again later.”

“Did you get a prediction?” Rachel questioned.

“No, dear. The weather report told me.”

Rachel couldn’t but let out a slight laugh as her mom disappeared from the room.

Lisa followed behind her but paused in the doorway, poking her head back into the kitchen.

“You two _do_ remembered that _thing_ we have tomorrow night, right?”

“Yep!” Lance chimed.

“Absolutely!” Rachel added.

“Good. I just wanted to make sure you two didn’t forget and already make plans. It could be a good learning experience for you both.”

With that, she disappeared a final time that morning. Both Lance and Rachel waited until Lisa was out of earshot before they dropped the sugary sweet act.

“You have no idea what she’s talking about either, huh?” Lance smiled.

“Nope.” Rachel replied.

Lance let out a sigh and slumped, trying to remember what it was that Lisa was referring to. Rachel turned her focus back to Lance’s computer. Behind them, Luis finished drying a glass and placed it in rack beside the sink, chuckling slightly at his younger brother and sister’s antics.

“You two know she’s talking about taking you to that graveyard near Oldtown, right?”

Oldtown was the name of a well known tourist attraction on the western side of the island. It was made to look like a Civil War era town but was really nothing more than a single pub and a few buildings that sold souvenirs and food. The streets were lined with Cobblestones and the area was decorated with old fashioned oil lamps. Occasionally they hired some of the local college kids to give tours while wearing era style clothing. It stayed open to the public for two months during the Summer and was available to rent for historical reenactments the rest of the time. Other than attracting a few history fanatics with the pirate ship replica docked near the shore or the folktales about a supposed treasure being hidden somewhere on the island, Oldtown itself was really nothing special.

And, for reasons none of them could even begin to understand, Lisa had discovered that there was a cemetery in the woods right above it.

“Oh yeah! I remember that now.” Rachel said.

“I don’t!” Lance protested.

Lance was pretty sure he would remember something about Lisa wanting to take them to some creaky old cemetery with bugs and spiders and...ghosts. _Man, did Lance hate ghosts._ Friday night was a full moon. Combined with the high concentration of spirit energy that always lingered around graveyards, there was an absolute guarantee that they were going to see something.

Lance couldn’t help but suspect that this was _exactly_ what Lisa was planning, too.

“Probably because you were volunteered to go.” Luis went on.

Saying nothing, Lance turned around in his chair to face his brother. Luis continued his cycle of washing and drying, unaware. Finally, sensing the tension that came with the sudden silence, Luis turned to see his brother’s fixated expression.

“Marco.” He pinpointed. “Originally Lisa wanted to take Rachel and Veronica, but Veronica has some sort of trip coming up at the university over the weekend, so Marco convinced her to take you instead because your powers might help the ghosts manifest more clearly to her.”

Lance didn’t react, though the look in his eyes revealed that he was most likely imagining himself doing very, _very_ horrible things to Marco with a pitchfork.

“He also said to consider it revenge for something your friend Hunk said when you three were at the mall together last Wednesday.”

Luis braced himself for the inevitable impact he knew was about to happen.

“What the heck? That’s not even fair! Marco _does_ look like a Cowboy Bebop wannabe!” Lance protested. He crossed his arms and leaned back, pouting. “Hunk doesn’t even like going off on people, Marco was annoying _us_ in front of that girl! You _know_ it was his fault!”

Called it.

Luis held his hands up in surrender. He had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the situation.

“I _do_ find it funny how you stay out of things and somehow that only makes it worse.” Rachel noted, amused. It wasn’t pettiness on her part, just an observation. “Like you could just tell Lisa what Marco was doing and be done with it.”

“Exactly!” Lance added. “Thank you, Rachel.”

“Like, we all know how much of a wimp Lance is when it comes to spirits.”

“See? She has a point with...hey! Wait...”

Rachel only smirked, she and Lance both knowing that she was right.

“I can’t control what Marco does.” Luis said. “He’s an adult.”

“He has a funny way of showing it by acting twelve.” Lance nagged.

“And it _would_ be a good thing for both of you.” Luis continued, ignoring Lance’s remark. “Mom and dad got to help me and Veronica and Marco with our powers growing up, but as busy as everything has been around here lately there’s no guarantee that they can give you two the same amount of focus. And Lisa _wants_ to be a mentor toward you. ”

Lance said nothing, but shifted slightly as he pondered over Luis’s words.

Things _had_ been hectic for their family lately. Veronica went off to college a year earlier so she wasn’t around as much. Marco was set to graduate high school this year. Lance and Veronica would be seniors next year. Plus, they had all been trying to secretly save up to sent mom and dad on the honeymoon they never got to have in addition to Luis and Lisa trying to find their own house soon.

“I’m not saying you have to like every little idea she has, but she sounded really excited about doing this with you. Do you think you could try giving it a chance?”

Lance hesitated before he responded.

“Fine.” He replied. “But I’m getting Marco back the next opportunity I get.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Luis said, giving a quick pat to Lance’s shoulders with his hands. “And who knows. Maybe you could invite some of your friends along. I’m sure Pidge wouldn’t mind holding your hand if it gets too scary.”

Lance practically fell out of the chair.

“Shouldn’t Nadia and Sylvio have been up ten minutes ago?” He asked, hoping to change the subject or at least get Luis out of the room.

“Yep.” Luis replied, realization setting in.

His objective now changing, Luis tossed the dishcloth toward the sink and sprinted upstairs, his footsteps slowly fading away.

Lance remained seated, his stubbornness still going strong.

“Why is everybody in this family obsessed with me dating my friends?” Lance couldn’t help but question.

“Because you’re the baby.” Rachel replied. “And we're the only two that have never dated anyone before.”

“I _am not_ the baby.” Lance fired back. “We’re twins. You’re only ten minutes older.”

“Ten minutes I will _always_ have above you.” Rachel gloated. “Now, what is it about this train thing you’re so interested in?”

At that point, Lance realized arguing with her would be useless.

Rachel browsed the webpage, focusing on several old, sepia-toned pictures of an awning covered platform. Railroad tracks ran directly beside it, the ticket and information booth barely visible in the background. Another photo showed an aerial view of the tracks. Given the page’s layout, Rachel could tell the website was possibly made around the early 2000’s or even earlier, several paragraphs describing the history of the station. Finally, she scrolled down to the bottom, more images showing the area’s current state. To refer to it as decaying would be a compliment.

"It says the trains use to make deliveries to towns all over the island, but a lot of those towns and most of the island’s railroad system shut down once everybody started building around the port.” She summarized.

“Yeah. Other than a few trains still around the city, like how Matt and Shiro have to catch the subway to get to some of the university buildings.” Lance explained. “And I think there’s maybe one Freight Train that still runs supplies back and forth from the shipyard. You know that restaurant Hunk’s family owns? We got stopped by it when he had to run by there and pick something up last week.”

“But what did they do with the rest of the the trains then? Are they still on the island? Did they scrap them?”

“That’s what Pidge wants to try and find out. She and Hunk have been looking on different maps of the island but we can’t find a railyard or anything. She’s thinking there might be one near some nameless ghost town and she wants to follow the tracks in hopes of finding it.”

At his mention of the term ‘ghost town’ Lance couldn’t help but feel like Pidge’s plan was drifting dangerously close to searching for the paranormal again, but his sudden curiosity and this desire he had to try and find this supposed railyard far outweighed his worry. It wasn’t as if Pidge had ever actually caught anything on video anyway.

He also couldn’t help but think they all had to be really bored if wandering around railroad tracks toward a bunch of decaying buildings was how they chose to entertain themselves. Granted, most of the islands inhabitants outside of the port was mainly old folks and fisherman…

“Look at this.” Rachel suddenly spoke.

Slowly, her finger hovered over a picture of an old express train, backed along the tracks and surrounded by several other empty carts, brush and shrubbery growing over the track’s sleepers as if it had been parked there and forgotten.

“What about it?”

“This doesn’t look like the same area in the pictures.”

Lance focused, his eyed lighting up once he realized she was right. The trains appeared to be in some sort of dome area, made of steel and glass as opposed to wood like the Altea Coastline Atlantic Railway Station, the graininess of the photos making it difficult to notice unless somebody was really scanning over them and knew what to look for.

She had pretty much just confirmed that there had to be a railyard or at least another station on the island.

“Rachel! You’re a genius!” Lance yelled.

“You’re correct. I - ” The rest of her sentence was cut off as Lance hugged her in excitement. As much as he, Pidge, and Hunk had been racking their brains and trying to gather as much information as they could, Rachel had found the exact type of clue they needed in less than five minutes.

“I have to tell Pidge about this!” Lance whipped his phone out of his pocket, ready to blow up the group chat, before Rachel spoke up once more.

“You might want to wait and tell her yourself.”

As if on cue, the familiar horn on Hunk’s truck went off twice, revealing that he had just pulled up next to the house to give them a ride to school.

“Wow.” Lance chimed. “Good timing.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acxa is Pidge and Matt's foster sister.
> 
> Originally I wanted to add another part after this about Keith, Matt, and Shiro's urban exploration adventure where they discover something incredibly interesting, but decided to add it as the next chapter. I'm planning on Lotor and Lance meeting in chapter four!
> 
> ~Thanks for reading!

There were several downsides to being the main person in a friend group with a car, the most obvious being that everybody needed a ride to school.

Hunk sat in the driver’s seat, occasionally gazing up at the shifting clouds and silently wishing that Lance would hurry up in case the rain started to pour down again. Shay sat in the passenger’s seat beside him. Pidge was stretched out in the bed of the truck, drifting in and out of consciousness. She had never been much of a morning person. Hunk could imagine that if she managed to get soaked she probably wouldn’t be much of an “entire-rest-of-the-day” person, either.

_Come on, Lance._

Finally, the front door to the Acosta house flew open, Lance bounding across the yard in such a hurry that he didn’t even notice the door falling back and nearly clubbing his sister. In his excitement he jumped into the back of the truck, shaking the entire vehicle and getting a sour look from Pidge at waking her up before he scrambled to the front to slide the window aside.

“Hunk! You’re never going to believe what - oh, hey Shay!”

Shay, wincing slightly at Lance’s loudness, turned and smiled.

“Good morning, Lance!” She beamed.

Lance took it as his que to tone down his energy before turning back to Hunk.

“Hunk, you’re never going to believe what Rachel found out about those railway pictures.”

“Whatever it is, it can wait. We’re already going to be late.”

With that, Hunk turned the key once, twice, (he hated this truck so much) three times and the engine roared to life. Still bouncing, Lance slid the window shut and shifted toward the back of the truck as Rachel approached them, having won her battle with the screen door.

“So, where’s discount Prince Zuko and Azula this morning?” He asked.

Pidge gave a grunt in response.

Lance reached his arm out to help Rachel climb inside, which wasn’t the easiest in her dress. Afterwards, his hand quickly found its way under Pidge’s hood and ruffled her hair when he didn’t get the answer he wanted. She was quick to shove it away in annoyance.

“Acxa got a ride from those Lionsdale kids.” She replied, snapping. “Keith left early on his motorcycle. He texted me and said there was something he needed to do for school and didn’t need us to pick him up. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“Nope.”

“What do you mean _nope_?”

Pidge’s eyes narrowed at Lance’s smug expression. Whatever it was that he wanted to tell her, he was itching to get it out but he wasn’t going to allow her the satisfaction in revealing it too soon.

“You’re plotting something.” She observed. “But what?”

“Guess you’ll have to wait until we get to school to find out.”

Pidge’s focus locked on him again, as if staring him down would somehow get him to say more about his big reveal. Realizing that it was no use, Pidge let out a sigh of defeat and sat up, her mind now racing far too much to actually fall back asleep.

“Okay.” She said. “I’ll humor you. What’s going on?”

Seconds later, the car finally pulled out of the driveway.

-

On most days, Lotor was able to time the train before it arrived.

Most days.

There were always exceptions.

It sped by in a constant metallic clatter, the colorful graffiti on the side being nothing more than a blur. At one point, he had attempted to make out the intricate words and designs to pass the time, but quickly stopped once he felt himself getting dizzy. Feeling suddenly foolish, he rubbed his eyes and leaned back into the seat.

The car was currently stalled behind a line of vehicles also waiting for the train to pass. They were near the outer limits of the city, meaning the drivers that had gotten a late start to work that morning were slowly becoming fussy, one driver even pulling a quick turn and going back the way they came to avoid the wait. For an instant, Lotor wondered if he could mimic the same move and follow the road back down to the highway. It would be another ten minute drive to the high school, but it was manageable. Or it _would be_ if the car behind him wasn’t practically pressed to his bumper.

_Ah. Wonderful._

Truthfully, he had come to expect some of the typical scatterbrained antics from the island’s inhabitants over the past year or so after he transferred in. Port Altea was the same as any other remotely large city with a private school. He had lived in enough to recognize the cycle. Although it _did_ help that his first period science teacher showed a slight fondness for him, always going on and on about some of the work his _mother_ had done for the local university. As starstruck as the guy seemed it really wasn’t that difficult for Lotor to tiptoe around his words and sweet talk his way into a late class. He couldn’t quite say the same charm applied to his friends though. Hence, his impatience that morning.

Often, Lotor had been told he was a complicated person to figure out. He bore an uncanny resemblance to both of his parents, but in different ways. Appearance wise, he looked more like his mom and just like her, he had the same striking intelligence and tendency to hyperfixate. From his dad he had gotten the same sharp, fixated eyes and the presence of command when he entered a room, whether he was doing so intentionally or not. Point blank, he was somebody people noticed, often for the wrong reasons.

To some, he was intimidating.

To others, a borderline know-it-all.

To most, a cocky pretty boy.

To his friends, he was just another reject like they were, which is why he gravitated toward them. He found it oddly comforting, being around people who treated him like an actual person instead of a concept.

Gazing up to the middle mirror now, Lotor could see Acxa trying to catch a quick glance at her phone through the front pocket of her hoodie. Out of the four of them (or five rather, since Narti was always gone before the crack of dawn doing who-knows-what) Acxa was the only one that attended the public high school instead of Lionsdale, the very reason why she was wearing casual clothes instead of the typical purple and white Lionsdale uniform. Normally she rode the bus and met up with them after school when she could manage, but since all of the clocks at her foster family’s house had stopped working overnight for some odd reason and caused her to wake up late, she had texted Lotor asking for a ride, the idea of heading out that morning with her foster sister’s incredibly loud friends being unbearable.

Acxa didn’t know Pidge’s friends  _well,_ but she knew _enough._

“Why Acxa!” Lotor practically purred. “So eager to be rid of me already?’

There was a slight humor to his voice that Acxa detected even _before_ she caught his gaze in the mirror. _Busted._ Her eyes darted back down long enough to turn off her phone with a click and slide it back into her hoodie pocket.

“Just worried I’m going to make you all late.” She admitted.

Acxa hated asking for favors.

She stretched her arms above her head now, letting out a slight groan at her sore muscles before shifting to the side to stare out the window. Lotor’s black Thunderbird was a solid ten on the coolness factor, but when it came to being able to move around inside, it easily fell into the double negatives. Acxa couldn’t help but wonder how cramped it would be if Narti actually _had_ come with them and was squeezed in the back between her and Zethrid.

“Rest assured, my pumpkin carriage will be on the grounds before midnight strikes.” Lotor soothed. “In the meantime, do tell me, where _is it_ that _Keith_ has gotten off to today. He mentioned that he had something to do at school early, if I’m not mistaken.”

The coy way Lotor spoke about the situation revealed that he already knew the answer to his own question and was merely hinting for Acxa to confirm his suspicions.

“You’re not.” She spoke. “Not entirely. That was what he told Pidge when he texted her this morning.”

“And he has no intention of going to school today?” Lotor pressed.

“Not at all.”

Keith was one of the few friends Acxa had at the public high school. And while she couldn’t exactly say that he and Lotor were friends themselves, he _did_ pal around with them on occasion, lowkey being drawn to Lotor’s search for strangeness and magic since he had a history with the paranormal himself growing up. It was almost as if ghosts and strange entities were drawn to him.

Lotor, of course, found this _especially_ interesting.

Keith and Pidge's brother Matt were also really close friends, though Matt and their other friend Shiro had graduated the year before and were usually too swarmed with their university assignments to hang out, so Acxa couldn’t help but get the feeling that Keith was secretly lonely. She had been there herself before. Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti had known Lotor for longer than she had, with her only recently joining their friend circle. She felt the awkwardness of her being there hadn’t quite worn off yet.

It also happened that today was one of the rare occasions where Shiro and Matt _did_ have some free time. This could only mean that the duo were most likely going to spend the day exploring some of the old buildings around the abandoned parts of Fort Nax for Pidge and Matt’s Youtube channel. Give or take, Keith was going to be there with them.

“If you’re wondering about his journal, he gave it to me yesterday in last period.” Acxa added.

In an instant, she reached into her backpack and produced a black journal before passing it over the seat. It contained all of the weird stuff Keith had recorded happening to him since he was a kid. A bunch of newspaper clippings surrounding paranormal activity near the port took up a majority of the back few pages. His latest entry had been a map of the island, stars scribbled on certain areas where he had visited and had some sort of reaction that he couldn’t fully make sense of. Since Acxa had looked at it last, a new star had been drawn, the words ‘train tunnel’ appearing at the top of the island and circled for emphasis.

Acxa couldn’t help but wonder _why_ Keith was snooping around an old train tunnel, but given some of the places Lotor had taken them before, she had just learned to just stop questioning certain things after a while.

“Just try to be careful with it. I get the feeling he doesn’t exactly want me to lend it out.”

“You have my word.”

It was exactly Lotor’s favorite flavor of weird. Of course he was going to be attentive.

Looking around now, Lotor tried to remember where he had put his glasses before finally leaning toward Ezor in the passenger seat to open the glove compartment. Ezor squeezed aside, the red lipstick she was currently trying to apply still in her hand and still trying to be applied. A small, blue case fell out and bounced onto the floor beside her makeup bag.

Lotor _really_ detested his glasses, not because he felt he looked bad in them but more so because he found them irritating. He was constantly having to adjust them from falling off of his face, though his contacts not being ready until Monday meant that he had no choice but to use them as a last resort.

No sooner did he put them on and flip to the map in the back of the journal did the train finally disappear from sight. Silence. Then the slight _ding_ of the crossing bar as it slowly began to rise, car tires on either side grinding against loose gravel as they inched forward.

“Finally!” Zethrid protested, her fist pounding against her legs.

Beside him, Ezor let her head fall back in relief.

Acxa, body still turned toward the window, couldn’t help but smirk at the slight look of annoyance on Lotor’s face when they caught each other’s gaze in the mirror once more. Perfect timing.

Promptly plucking his glasses back off, Lotor attempted to shove his stuff back into his messenger bag before the car in front of them got too far ahead. The case fell to the floor again, this time popping open. There was a large hole in the side of the bag, something Lotor had only just become aware of as he wiggled his fingers against air.

_Kova._

“Lotor, just _go_.” Ezor protested.

She reached down to retrieve both the journal and his glasses case while also trying to avoid leaving a trail of red from her uncapped lipstick. As Ezor shoved both of the items into the other side of his bag, her hands trailed over something silken and soft. A small black pouch. Curiosity getting the better of her (there was _no way_ she would let Lotor live it down if he was bringing weed on campus without letting them in on some of his stash) she gingerly moved the drawstring aside and peeked in, disappointed to find that it was just more of his weird cards that were suppose to tell the future or something. Tarot cards?

Truthfully, Ezor didn't understand half of the stuff Lotor was always rambling on about. Ghosts. Demons. Fortune Telling. Lost pirate ships and buried treasure. _Aliens_ , of all things. Or rather, it was most likely  _Lotor_ she didn't fully understand. Lotor and his strange fixation on proving the existence of something that wasn't there. It didn't even matter what it was. Just _something._ Once she had even remembered joking with Zethrid about him trying to break away from living in his mom's shadow by trying to make some amazing discovery on his own, not realizing that he had appeared behind her in the doorway.

He had said nothing about her joke, always the type to act like nothing could ever bother him. But his relationship with his parents had always been a touchy subject. The way his silence had changed the atmosphere in the room that day made Ezor wish that she and Zethrid had never said anything about it to begin with. In fact, if it wasn't for Zethrid, who had been her best friend since middle school and who had a strange loyalty toward Lotor for some unknown reason, Ezor often wondered if any of them would even be friends. Her best guess? Probably not. But here they all were. Thrown together by circumstance. Too weird to fit in with the kids at Lionsdale and too rich to fit in with the kids at the public high school and _absolutely_ too chaos-prone to fit in with the kids at the military school near the fort.

Ezor soon found her snooping cut short when Lotor's hand flipped over the cover of his messenger bag, her gaze drifting up in time to see one of his signature scolding looks reserved especially for her.

_Out of it._

Ezor held her hands up, realizing only then that she was still holding her lipstick before searching for the cap beside her leg on the seat.

"Sorry. Just thought you had the hook up. You definitely seem like you have some tension you need to work off."

 _Getting laid could help with that too,_ she couldn't help but think.

"I understand what you were looking for." Lotor explained, the exhaustion in his voice apparent. "I have it back home. You can help yourselves when we all return this evening."

_Home._

That was what Lotor had dubbed the factory. His parent's apartment back in New York wasn't home. The mansion in London where he had spent most of his childhood wasn't home. No, home was an old abandoned factory in the middle of nowhere, because that's where his friends were.

Behind them, a driver started to honk. In a flash, Zethrid attempted to lean over the seat to honk the horn back at them.

After Lotor had politely _persuaded_ Zethrid to sit back down and buckle her seat belt, they were off again.

The current road led toward an intersection and the area just beyond that was what Lotor had appropriately dubbed the ‘Industrial District.’ If they continued down, they would eventually hit the shipyard. Surrounding the shipyard and the docks were about two dozen warehouses made specifically for storing all of the incoming supplies. Several gas stations and food trucks dotted the area and both an oil refinery and a power plant were off to the far right and out of viewing distance, though the power lines and billowing smoke were visible enough. Lotor suspected that the trainyard was somewhere in the area too, given how close the tracks were.

It always struck Lotor as quite a gloomy area to work, all grime and rust and all of the chain-link fences and concrete walls distorting the view of the beach and the rest of the bay in the distance.

Lotor _did_ have his nitpicks, but he felt that not only was the bay the most beautiful place on the island but also one of the most beautiful places he had ever had the pleasure of visiting. Port Altea was nearly famous for its beaches, the old travel magazines sitting in his father’s study back in New York hadn’t been wrong. Whenever he could, he tried to catch the riverboat on a lazy afternoon and maybe have lunch at the little restaurant on it just so he could sit and watch the passing scenery as the boat left the bay and headed further inland. He liked to invite his friends whenever he could as well, though Zethrid and Ezor often found the whole experience old-timey and lame.

Once, he could even recall an afternoon when school had dismissed early and they all took a long drive around different parts of the island, including the huge suspension bridge connecting the opposite sides of the bay. It had been a kind of ‘ _see you when you get back_ ’ present before they had to return to their homes away from each other over the break. Lotor remembered the music blaring as they sped past the thin strip of beach and the boardwalk while Ezor sat on the back of the car above the back seat, the car’s top let down. Both her arms were out, mimicking a bird flying in the wind, her rainbow hair had fallen out of her typical ponytail while Zethrid whooped and hollered along with the hard rock spilling from the radio. This had all been back when Acxa's hair was still short, a pair of Aviator glasses adorning her face while Narti sat huddled in her hoodie with Kova in her lap in the back seat. Once or twice Lotor had even seen Zethrid glance back toward Ezor, a slightly lovetruck look passing through her eyes that Ezor was none-the-wiser to. Zethrid and Lotor had eventually locked eyes, his slight smirk revealing that he had caught on to what she was doing, and another look -glare, rather - revealed that if Lotor said _anything_ she would...but Lotor has made a quick tap over his mouth with his finger. Her secret was safe with him. They had all been a little drunk (which wasn’t the brightest idea, Lotor understood) but it was at that point that Lotor had never felt more free and at peace in his life, just having fun with his friends for that one afternoon and pretending he was a normal teenager for once.

At least until the very next day when it all came crashing down again.

It was kind of an unspoken rule at Lotor’s house that he was to return home on the last weekend of every month and during breaks so his parents could talk about his _progress_. Lotor was the son of a powerful c.e.o and a former college professor. His _progress_ usually involved them playing the whole ‘brilliant, honor roll son set for Ivy League’ card whenever they felt they could gain something from it. Lotor had been amazed when his father had actually agreed to let him attend Lionsdale instead of some private school in New York or Paris or London where they could reach him easily, but then he recalled how they usually wanted him as far away as possible when he wasn’t needed and it all made sense.

Lotor honestly had no problem with staying as far away from them as possible.

He just hoped he would be far enough away from them when they found out he had no intention of going to some Ivy League college and was going to spend the year after graduation on an archaeology dig instead.

Turning left onto another road now, the Thunderbird soon made its way toward the bay, the high school being in the center of the city with Lionsdale not being far off. Sunlight was slowly starting to creep through the storm clouds, reflecting off of the rain puddles left over from last night. As soon as the morning grogginess faded away, Lotor had no doubt that the bay would be as cheerful and lively as it always was, if only for the afternoon.

“So. Any of you guys coming to visit me at my job later?” Ezor questioned, an impish look in her eye.

Acxa turned her head, curiosity crossing over her face. This was the first time Ezor had mentioned anything about it. To _her_ , at least.

“Job?”

Ezor, Zethrid, and Narti currently resided with Lotor at the old factory beside Oldtown and, as far as she knew, Lotor usually paid the rent. Acxa also knew little to nothing about most of their parents, but given that they attended Lionsdale she could only assume they were all pretty well off. The only reason the other three girls were currently living with Lotor at the rickety old factory instead of the luxury campus dorms was to encourage Lotor’s latest “break-through” and because he was a lot more lenient with what they did as opposed to most of school faculty. Authority had never really come easy to any of them, especially Zethrid and Ezor.

Still...something was telling Acxa it was better _not_ to ask _why_ Ezor was getting one all of a sudden.

“She starts at the diner across from Lionsdale this afternoon.” Lotor explained. “Sal’s, I believe is the name of it.”

“Yeah! There are people that actually eat there.” Ezor added. “I think only one person has died. Pretty sure they served him up with a side salad afterwards too.”

Acxa said nothing, but a slight gag caught in her throat. She’s positive she would _never_ get use to Ezor’s morbid sense of humor.

The chatter between the four remained scarce until Lotor pulled up next to the the high school. Several teenagers, killing time near the front entrance until classes began, couldn’t help but stop what they were doing to stare at the scene in front of them. A Lionsdale student in purple, pretty much equivalent to royalty by their standards, dropping off the strange, loner girl with blue hair in an antique Thunderbird that reeked of old money and family secrets.

Either Acxa hadn’t noticed their starring or paid them no mind as she got out, nearly closing the door on the loose fabric of her hoodie. Giving Lotor a quick two-fingered wave as a thanks, she headed toward the steps to the main building, only managing to reach the first one before she stopped short and hesitated. Turning back, she got to the car window just as Lotor started to pull off, his foot hitting the break once she reached them. Digging into her hoodie pocket once more, she eased a slip of paper toward Lotor.

“I meant to give it to you the other day. There’s a kid in my class that was telling me about these people that could probably help us find what we’re looking for. I already made the appointment.”

The bell to first period suddenly rang throughout the school building. The other students, losing interest at the current scene but still chatting about it regardless, slowly began to flood inside.

Lotor took the paper, albeit a little confused, then watched as Acxa slid her backpack strap over her shoulder and made her way back toward the steps.

“What was all that about?” Ezor questioned.

What was on this one slip of paper that was so important Acxa couldn’t wait to tell them later?

Ezor and Zethrid met eyes, Zethrid making a slight ‘i-don’t-know’ sound and shrugging her shoulders. Lotor said nothing, mostly because he wasn’t quite sure himself, but folded it open anyway. In blue pen and Acxa’s neat handwriting were the words:

 _Acosta Residence._ _315 New Castle Way. Appointment Time: Tuesday 5:00 - 5:30. Ask for Lisa._

 


End file.
